Fullmetal Alchemist: The Wages of Sin
by Marlo Voltaire
Summary: Two State Alchemists. An Ishbalan refugee that has dabbled in his people's greatest taboo. A forlorn young woman living in solitude. An alchemical prodigy and his revenge driven father. This is their story: one of vengence, love, and repentance.
1. Prolouge: A Soul Apart from Time

The Wages of Sin

Prologue: A Soul Apart from Time

The southwestern borders of Amestris weren't nearly as prosperous as the country's other regions: battles were constantly being fought throughout the area as the dispute between Amestris and its two neighbors, Creta and Aerugo, continued to escalate. "Border skirmishes" the State Military called them. To the victims of the miniature war, soldier and civilian alike, they were far more than that. Life was growing increasingly difficult for the people as city after city became a garrison for armies. The Fuhrer, after all, was only concerned with suppressing and subduing the opposition- not improving the region's condition.

Yet the situation was all too perfect for a certain two member family. It was becoming painfully obvious to them that the military forces in the area had their hands full holding the allied armies away- they both knew quite well that this was the place for their campaign to begin. The preparations that had spanned an arduous quarter-century were now complete.

The brown haired man chuckled. He liked to think the family had _seven_ members in actuality. Bored with admiring the sunset, he turned about and made his way across the rooftop to the stairwell that led to the warehouse below. The empty sleeves of his maroon coat swayed in the breeze as the thirty-nine year old man passed from the orange-red light of late evening into the musty, ill-lit air of the abandoned depot. Running a gloved hand over the stairs' dust-ridden guard rail as he descended, the man went over the details of how this situation came to be, as if playing over an old record…

His name? Marlo. His age? Thirty-nine… though that wasn't entirely true. In fact, a closer estimate would be four-hundred forty. He had inhabited about four bodies before this one: through alchemy and the power of the Philosopher's Stone, he was able to transfer his soul from body to body. Just as Dante did- he already knew this. And Hohenheim- how he loathed him. He was to blame for all of his troubles, no doubt…

That was enough. Passing through a threshold, Marlo arrived in a much cleaner, well-lit chamber. Awaiting him were two younger men: one, whose hair was black and cut short, was of twenty-nine years; the other, whose hair was black but extended into strands over his face and was covered by a black top hat, was of twenty-six. Or at least he appeared to be: Marlo understood that this _being_ was much younger than he seemed.

"Father," the younger of the two addressed Marlo politely, "Despair suggested he go retrieve the new homunculus that has been sighted around Central and the areas west of there." The young man's black eyes shifted toward the man in the suit and top hat, who stood next to him.

"Is this true?" Marlo's voice was deep yet mellow, a faint hint of amusement in its words. "If I remember correctly, you are to be held responsible for the existence of a created human in that area, Despair."

"Correct," the suited homunculus identified as Despair chimed in, tipping his hat forward with a hand gloved in white. "I would like to leave as soon as convenient." Unlike the other two, his tone was cheerful yet had an added mischievousness that almost seemed sinister.

"Very well," the oldest of the three sighed, walking between the other two on his way across the room. "Leave as soon as you are ready." The two other men pivoted and followed after Marlo in perfect unison only machines could surpass. Their leader's piercing black eyes shifted to his left, in the direction of the group's youngest member- his son.

"What of Deceit?" he inquired in a concerned tone, "I want her back in Hanz at once."

The black-haired young man cast his equally black gaze on his father's back, responding, "Last I heard, she was still finishing up business in Creta." His expression seemed forlorn; it was likely the twenty-year old had something on his mind. "She should return in a few days."

A pleased smirk graced Marlo's features. Deceit was the only person he could entrust with a job like the one she was returning from, save for perhaps his own son. After all, Deceit had been created after his late wife. Even if it was a soulless creation, it was somewhat comforting to have her living replica as a follower.

The three approached a door at the chamber's end; extending a single gloved hand, Marlo moved to open it. All of it would be set in motion soon. With these _tools_- the artificial humans he had named in mockery of Dante's servants- he would wipe out Hohenheim Elric and all that was dear to him. Only then could he finally convince Dante to return to him.

Marlo slowly twisted the doorknob, opening the rusted door to reveal a small, empty chamber. The group entered, closing the door behind. A gas lantern that hung from the ceiling was the only source of light within the miniature room. Seconds passed in silence as a second, iron door slowly crept over the entryway. Despair, in his usual, whimsical mood, couldn't help but tap his silver-handled cane in unison with the mechanism as the safety gate clicked into place.

"Very good," Marlo's amused voice interrupted the lingering quiet as the chamber- a crude elevator- descended into the depths of the structure.


	2. Chapter I: The Mind of a Drachman

Chapter I: The Mind of a Drachman

Major Christoph Eisenwald often wondered what went on in the mind of his Colonel. Faustus Ermundtraut was his name- he was supposedly from Drachma, though Eisenwald had never bothered to verify the rumor in the single year he had served under the man. What really made the Major curious, however, was- if Colonel Ermundtraut _was _a Drachman- why he was serving in the _Amestrian_ military in the first place.

Major: Eisenwald preferred not to be spoken to as such. After all, he had only achieved the rank through becoming a State Alchemist. Rather, he took a liking to his Alchemist Title, "Living Blade". Fortunately, most of his unit referred to him as such. He was called the Living Blade Alchemist for his right arm of automail, which he often transmuted into a sword-like weapon.

At the moment, he was in a black military vehicle, en route to their new headquarters in West City. Seated next to him was Faustus Ermundtraut himself, his thoughtful violet eyes peering out the car's tinted windows. Though military protocol usually had the Lieutenant-Colonel riding with the Colonel, Ermundtraut always specified for Major Eisenwald to accompany him. Christoph guessed it was because they were both State Alchemists: the Colonel's title was the Lunar Alchemist, which represented his mastery of ice, water, vapor, and various other liquids and gases.

"Living Blade," Colonel Ermundtraut's voice cut through the silence in a hollow tone, "Are you familiar with the name Luce Winter?"

Caught of guard, Eisenwald stammered a bit before answering. "No, sir. Why?"

A faint smirk formed on the Lunar Alchemist's features. "He's a General stationed at Western Headquarters, where we're heading." His violet gaze shifted away from the car window and eyed Major Eisenwald, his head unmoving. "I've heard quite a lot about him…." His expression changed from reflection to curiosity. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course, sir, what is it?"

Ermundtraut turned away from the window and folded his hands in his lap. "How did you lose your right arm?"

"Oh," again, the Colonel's question caught Eisenwald off guard. There was a brief pause before he continued, "In an automobile accident. I had been returning home from an errand when a car rounded the corner and knocked me over, crushing my arm as well."

There was an awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity before the Lunar Alchemist's mellow voice answered, "I already understand…" He shifted his legs, the antiquated machinery of his old automail leg clanging together as it moved. Reminded of the Lunar Alchemist's disability, a new thought entered Eisenwald's mind- an idea so radical that, if it were true, could change his life as a State Alchemist.

"Colonel-" Eisenwald started, but was cut off by a cry of shock from the driver's seat.

"What's the matter?" Colonel Ermundtraut demanded from the soldier in a level-headed, though grave, tone. The black military vehicle wheeled around, coming to a stop at the completion of its turn. The military automobiles that had been following behind with the Colonel's other officers screeched to a halt, their drivers astonished and confused. Peering out of the car window, the Lunar Alchemist observed the form of a black haired man who appeared only a few years older than himself.

"That man-" the driver stuttered- "I just drove _straight through him!_" In a slightly calmer voice, he added, "How could he still be alive?" As if on cue, the bizarre apparition walked over to a nearby house, his pace quickening with every step. His long, messy black hair suddenly turned a pale gray color as he dove through the building's wall, which seemed to ripple as the entity appeared to first fuse and then- inevitably- disconnect himself from the structure upon reaching the other side.

Major Eisenwald gaped in wonder at the inexplicable event. Never before in his life had such a strange thing happened to him, and he doubted anything quite like it had happened to any of the other officers either. "Who or what was that?"


	3. Chapter II

**Author's Note: **Wow, I'm only on my second day of writing and I've already got reviews coming in! Thanks a lot, readers. I've only updated one chapter today, but I _am _hoping to write one chapter every day or so. Also, I tried to make today's chapter a bit better than my previous work.>.>;; Sorry if my opening seemed weak. Anyway, thanks again, everyone, and I hope you enjoy chapter two!   


Chapter II: The Wandering Jackal & the Lady in Violet

As he wandered through the forest, leaves brown and gold in the spirit of autumn, Lowe Aziz reprimanded himself for even thinking about complaining. After all, this was the only way they could find the freedom they yearned for so much. They were almost there... almost free from the tyrannical grip of the State Military. He had shepherded his people this far into Amestris, and he would guide them out. Looking over his shoulder, the tanned man smiled at the sight of his three companions. Adel, Dawood, and Faris had been his companions since they were forced out of their native home of Ishbal, and the four of them together journeyed out every day after finding a new camping spot for the others- that is, the nineteen other refugees. Though his own parents had died long ago, back when the Ishbal Massacre could have been- barely- thought of as something else, the men and women he protected now almost seemed like a second family. It was tiring work, but it was necessary, and they all agreed that the sooner they were past Amestris and in Creta, (the State Military currently had a strong presence in its southern region, otherwise they would have gladly fled to Aerugo and avoided a longer journey) the better off they were.

It was a miracle that they had even managed to flee Ishbal in the first place, never mind travel this far. The group of twenty-three had first traveled southwest around Central City and now were moving northwest as they neared the Cretan border. In spite of the fact that such a large group had traveled so far into Amestrian soil, they had encountered little military resistance, none of which proved much of a threat to the men of the group.

Lowe sighed, casting a glance on the intricate, circular brand on his palm before taking hold of his rifle with both hands. It was a constant reminder of what Amestris had done to his people. He remembered the event well. His house- or rather, the house he had been allowed to stay in after his own had been destroyed- had been attacked and torched by the Amestrian military. When Lowe tried to defend himself, one of the soldiers shoved him through a window. As if the fall hadn't been enough, his left hand had landed on a strange amulet that had been heated by the blaze, scarring him.

Lowe's daydreams were interrupted by the sounds of voices up ahead. He looked over his shoulder and, just as he expected, the others were growing as cautious as he was, their fingers growing tense over their rifles' triggers. They had purposefully taken an obscure path through this forest toward the next town over, never expecting that they would encounter any trouble. The four young men pulled hoods over their faces, shielding their red eyes and tanned complexion from view. As they grew closer, their suspicions were confirmed- a military checkpoint stood ahead. So no suspicious would be raised, the four hid their weapons beneath their coats.

"Good afternoon," a soldier- apparently the leader- clad in the blue coat of the Amestrian military greeted the four travelers when they came into view. "We apologize for this inconvenience, but we've heard rumors that a group of Ishballan refugees has been sighted around this area." The officer's watchful, black eyes studied them carefully. "Again, we apologize, but you're going to have to lower your hoods."

Without further delay, Lowe spoke up as if reciting a statement they had used on several occasions before. "We have a rare skin disorder that prevents us from being exposed to direct sunlight. I'm afraid we won't be able to take these off."

The officer and several of his men exchanged doubtful glances in silence before speaking again. "Don't be silly, the sun's already setting. Just show me your faces and you're free to go," he insisted, drawing closer.

Without another word, the four refugees revealed their weapons at once and fired, killing the black-eyed officer and seriously wounding another. One of the other soldiers charged Lowe, pinning him to the ground with his rifle. Forcing off the young man's hood, the nature of the soldiers' attackers became clear to them.

"They're Ishballans!" the man cried before another of the refugees shot him in the back, freeing Lowe.

Battle cries and gunshots rang throughout the forest as the four Ishballans fled off the trail and deeper into the trees. They ran as quickly as their legs could carry them over the leaf-covered, hilly ground, over a dozen soldiers hot on their tracks. A cold anger took Lowe as he came to the realization that this time, they might not emerge from their dangers unscathed. Coming to a ravine, Lowe shouted to the others and let himself slide down the treacherous slope, hiding at the bottom once he came to a stop. His companions were quick to join him, also hiding themselves from their pursuers.

An eternity seemed to pass for the four Ishballans as the Amestrian troop searched for traces of the disappeared refugees. The crunching sound of boots on fallen leaves seemed to intermittently get farther and closer as the soldiers scavenged the area of the forest. Then, just as Lowe thought they were safe from harm, he saw a soldier above the ravine shout for the others to come.

"I've found the Ishballans! They've trapped themselves down in a ravine!" the officer clad in blue shouted, readying his rifle.

Faris had raised his weapon and was about to fire when the sound of another figure walking through the forest surprised both sides of the conflict. A single figure- that of a woman in a simple, yet beautiful violet dress- walked across a bridge that spanned the ravine.

The soldier retreated out of Lowe's view, warning the dark-haired young woman, "Ma'am, I apologize if this startles you, but there's a group of hostile Ishballans down in that ravine. I advise that you leave the area as soon as possible."

The woman's response surprised both the soldiers- all of which had now gathered around the ravine- and Ishballans alike. "So that's it? You're just here to track down and murder more innocent men and women?" Her tone was calm yet grave, almost as if she were hurt by the realization of the soldiers' intentions. The young woman walked toward the troop of soldiers as she spoke, then came to a stop.

"That's not it at all, these men have attacked and killed several of our men-" The officer never had a chance to finish his sentence. From down in the ravine, the four Ishballans heard a clap followed by the sound of shifting earth and wood, and then muffled cries of surprise and fear- undoubtedly the soldiers'.

Half of an hour later, the young woman and four refugees were emerging from the forest into a grassy clearing. Lowe, Adel, Dawood, and Faris had emerged from the ravine to find the soldiers trapped in a dome made of mud, soil, and loose branches. After explaining their situation to the violet-clad woman, she agreed to provide for the refugees and- even after explaining that there would be nineteen others coming along as well- insisted that they could stay for as long as they wanted. Their decision made, Dawood volunteered to turn back and help the other refugees reach Xeres's home- only after confirming that her transmutation would keep them safe from the military troops.

"Ma'am-" Adel began, only to be interrupted by their guide.

In a tranquil yet insisting tone, she corrected her soon-to-be guest, "Xeres. The word 'ma'am' makes me feel so old."

"Xeres," Adel began again, "Why did you help us escape those soldiers? You heard them. Not only have we killed many soldiers to get this far, but we're Ishballans- you know that. We'll only cause you misfortune by staying here."

Xeres let out a soft, gentle laugh. "Don't worry yourself. Even if the State Military found my house, I doubt they would be able to lay a hand on me."

"What you did to those soldiers back there, and what you're referring to now…" Lowe began, pausing briefly, "It's alchemy, isn't it?"

Xeres nodded slightly, looking over her shoulder at the four refugees through her intelligent, emerald eyes. "That's correct… If I remember correctly, alchemy is taboo in your culture, right?"

Before Xeres could say another word, Faris interrupted, "But we wouldn't let that make us blind to honest, gracious help. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we no longer deplore use of alchemy, so long as it is for a just cause."

Smiling faintly, Xeres commented, "That's very noble of you."

"The atrocities that the State Military and their alchemists have committed are the very reason why our people view alchemy as a sin against nature. However, in this time of need, I feel that we may just find a worthier purpose for its existence," Lowe explained.

It was at that moment in time that Xeres's home came into view- and what a view it was. Hidden on three sides by thick clusters of trees, the mansion-sized house featured several balconies and was decorated in beautiful, earthy browns and greens.

"Welcome," the violet-dressed Xeres gestured with one hand toward her dwelling, "I don't have much, but what I do own is free for you to use while you remain here."

Somewhere between their host's massive residence and her refined poise, Lowe doubted that _his_ definition and _her_ definition of "much" were anything alike.


	4. Chapter III: The Day of Scarlet Clouds

Chapter III: The Day of Scarlet Clouds

The days of winter were well on their way, and the inhabitants of North City new this better than anyone else. The cloud-filled sky was a stark gray, reflecting the mood of the soldiers stationed there in Northern Headquarters. A squad of guards stood at the front doors of the compound, rifles at their sides and eyes scanning the grounds ahead of them. The frigid late morning left rendered their breath visible in small puffs of vapor in the air, only to float away into obscurity after a short-lived existence. With the exception of the soldiers stationed outside the complex, Northern Headquarters had been devoid of activity until two figures in military uniform entered through the front gates, crossing the grounds between the fence and headquarters' front doors quickly.

"Good morning, sir," one of the guards saluted the pair of blond- and brown-haired men.

"Good morning," the blond-haired officer returned the greeting with a quick salute and continued into the building.

In compensation for his failure to secure the homunculus he had helped to create in the Central-Western region, Despair had decided to infiltrate the high-security prison beneath Northern Headquarters in order to take a State Alchemist-turned-criminal into his own custody. He had heard Marlo mention wanting to gain the convict's help in his plans, and, taking initiative, Despair had taken his personal aide along with him on his trip northeast. He and another homunculus who went by the name Apathy had entered Northern Headquarters with the help Despair's abilities and were now making their way through the compound to the maximum-security prison below.

Being able to bend, absorb, and refract light in intricate and versatile ways, Despair could have easily been able to penetrate the HQ's defenses invisibly, however, he instead opted to walk right into the building along with Apathy disguised as two officers stationed in the area: this, in accordance with his lively and mischievous personality, he considered a slap in the face and serious insult to the military compound's security. He and Apathy had observed a pair of officers stationed at Northern Headquarters that had the authority they needed, as well as arrived at the complex at a suitable time, and then Despair used his ability to manipulate light to disguise the pair of created humans as the officers they had spied on.

So it was that two homunculi were at the heart of an Amestrian military compound. Despair loved the feeling: that is, knowing that you were about to deal your enemies a humiliating blow and they could do nothing about it, even as you walked among them. Apathy, on the other hand, remained in a state that lived up to her name: casually indifferent toward the whole affair, only joining Despair on the journey out of her loyalty toward the suited homunculus. Despair found the created human so amusing; in truth, it seemed Apathy possessed all of the emotions humans did- she just hardly expressed them. This gave Despair untold amounts of delight as he pried at his fellow homunculus's past and grew closer to the created woman.

Despair had found Apathy near Amestris's northern border, and, upon discovering her, raised her to proper health. Together they had wandered the Amestrian countryside in search of each others desires- for Despair, to become human, and for Apathy, to actually _know_ what it was she wanted- before meeting Marlo and forging a deal with him.

Despair and Apathy, along with the created human Deceit and- eventually- another homunculus who rarely showed himself from the depths of Marlo's various hideaways, had made a pact with Marlo years ago, back when each of them were even younger than they were at the moment. The true details were rather extraneous to Despair at the moment- at the moment they were simply carrying out various mundane tasks that were only intricate details whose effects would later take the shape of a much greater scheme. He only knew that, one way or another, Marlo was planning to create an alchemic catalyst he claimed was even greater than a pure Philosopher's Stone: an implausible statement, but he did support his statements well enough to make it seem a distant possibility.

The pair of homunculi opened a door that led down a spiraling stairway to the prison chambers below. Despair- still protected by the illusion of a military officer- shrugged to himself, mentally swatting away his musings. He glanced beside him to Apathy's altered form and immediately longed to let the disguise fade away. In reality, Apathy had the appearance of a young woman in her early twenties so beautiful one could almost say that she wasn't human- which, ironically, was true. On top of that, she let her long, icy-blue hair fall freely behind her, ending at her waist; her silver eyes viewed the world through an unwavering gaze of sheer indifference. In reality, she appeared so much greater than the filthy human appearance that disguised her now.

An amused smile played at the corners of Despair's lips as the two "officers" commanded two soldiers to open the thick, iron door they guarded so diligently- or so they thought. Without worry- almost casually- the two homunculi traversed down a dimly lit hall lined with cells. Each was accessible only through a metal door as strong as the one they had passed through, and each was guarded by a pair of guards. Both stared straight ahead, keeping their goal in mind: the man who waited for them in the cell at the end of the hallway.

Coming to a stop in front of the men who guarded the final cell, a blond-haired Colonel addressed the soldiers, "Open this door." When met by questioning glances, he continued, lifting a document to their gazes, "I have an official declaration from His Excellency, Fuhrer King Bradley, specifically stating that the man in this cell, Robert Leith, once known as the Scarlet Rain Alchemist, is to be released from his incarceration and transported to Central immediately."

Obediently, albeit reluctantly, the two soldiers guarding the chamber opened its massive, iron door; the weak lighting in the hallway penetrated the chamber to reveal a man with vibrant red hair, long from ages without being cut.

"I take it the military's stray dog has finally become useful again?" the former prisoner inquired glibly, his sly voice echoing throughout the confined space.

A few explanations and a short while later, the trio was back in the open air- one of them for the first time in years- and traveling briskly out of Northern Headquarters.

Once the coast was clear and they were well out of the military's watchful gaze, Despair released the cloak around Apathy and himself, revealing them in their true appearances. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Despair; this is my colleague, Apathy. We're working with someone I believe you know quite well, Marlo."

"Oh," the Scarlet Rain Alchemist laughed, "I trust he's still doing well? I suppose so, considering he's gone and helped me out yet again." Not that it mattered to either of the homunculi, but Leith spoke in an intelligent fashion one would never expect to hear from a former convict- undoubtedly, Scarlet Rain was not as openly despicable as most escaped convicts.

"Quite well," Apathy answered softly, eyes studying their new ally carefully.

"Now, as you may've guessed, you aren't heading to Central like you overheard," Despair continued. "No; we are returning to Hanz, southwest of here in Amestris's western region, where Marlo and the others are waiting."

"The others?" Leith repeated. "Then my favor to him is still proving useful?"

Despair smirked. "You must mean Deceit." He paused, and then added, "Yes, there is also a fourth homunculus amongst us, who you'll meet as well."

A smile full of malice formed on the Scarlet Rain Alchemist's pallid features. "Just like before, when I was still a State Alchemist," he mused, iniquitous delight in his voice.

The homunculus in the suit and top hat chuckled, as if to find Robert Leith his kindred spirit. "Yes… I assure you, your brother-in-law will be quite happy to see you."

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** Author's Note:** Yay, chapter four. This chapter was really only supposed to introduce more faces, but I guess I ended up explaining quite a bit of Marlo's part of the story, too... Well, thanks again readers! Come back tomorrow and I'll probably have another chapter in by then.


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